Apple Stained Kisses
by KissingFire
Summary: AU/AH/OOC. Every time he kissed her, she slapped him. Simon has loved Isabelle since kindergarden, and she returned the feelings. But with her history with men, she's unwilling to let herself love anybody, including Simon.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for the apple I ate while writing this. And the sunburn on my nose, which is a very unattractive shade of red. **

**Rating: M. Because of some language and other shit I think some people under fourteen or whatever wouldn't be able to handle. If you can...Well, great. In a weird way. O_o**

**Pairing: Simon/Isabelle. Yeah. I went there. KISS IT, BITCH!**

**Kidding. :)**

**So...Yeah. Hope you like it. :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Simon<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Kindergarden<em>

At the age five, liking girls was the big _no no. _

Boys like Jace broke that rule quite often, chasing girls arond the playground and tickling them, and once, kissed a pretty blonde first grader behind the slides.

Simon tried being nice to girls; But they couldn't stand him.

When he asked one girl, one who brought cupcakes to class one time, on her birthday, why girls didn't like it when he chased them like Jace did, she answered, "Because you have glasses."

After that, Simon broke his glasses and began chasing the girls again.

But, since he couldn't see more than three inches from his face, the only thing he got to tag was the flag pole.

...

...

After that little incident, Simon kept his glasses, now taped in the center. He accepted the fact that girls would never like a boy like him, so he kept to himself, sitting next to the wird girl with red hair that liked to finger-paint during recess.

Her name was Clary, she'd told him, and that he was cute.

Simon was shocked; Girls were usually giggly when they talked to boys, but Clary had a soft, straight-forward tone, and she told him what she thought as soon as she'd thought it.

When he asked her if she'd be his girlfriend, she told him she didn't like boys. She told him that they interfered with her art.

He thought that was a little serious for someone her age, but he quickly realized she'd been lying when he noticed her staring at Jace every once and awhile when she was drawing. And that she seemed to use the color yellow more than one usually did.

Then, in the middle of his and Clary's kindergarden year, two new kids moved to town; Isabelle and Alec Lightwood.

Alec was quiet, moody, and antisocial, sitting in a corner of the classroom everyday. Until Jace offered to play Tic Tac To with him, and after that the two became as thick as thieves, and Alec gradually became more talkative.

Isabelle.

Isabelle, or as Simon liked to call her whenever his thoughts led to her, Izzy, was beautiful. She was his height, with black hair, or Clary called it ebony, that ran down to her waist. She had black eyes that reminded him of caves, and red lips that reminded him of candy,

She was different from the other girls in his class, too. She insisted on playing all the different sports with the boys during recess, basketball, soccer, football...If the boys said she wasn't allowed to play, she threw rocks at them, and yelled words that Simon had only ever heard grown ups say.

Izzy had hit Jace in the face with a rock after body-slamming him to the ground, because he'd tried to kiss her. Clary looked murderous, as if she was ready to throw her paint at Izzy _and _Jace. Simon wanted to punch the blonde boy; How dare he try to kiss her?

Clary asked Simon if he was going to try to kiss Izzy to, since every other boy had attempted to, already.

"No," Simon insisted. "Why would I try to? She doesn't know I exist."

Clary shook her head. "She stares at you too much to not know you," she pointed out.

Simon frowned. Had Izzy really been staring at him? Why would she? Did she like him? Did she think he was ugly?

When he voiced his worries to Clary, she slapped him and told him to shut up and stop being such a girl. _She was such a sweetheart. _

Which was how he ended up standing next to Izzy as she threw the basketball towards the hoop, and making it every single time.

"Hi," he said shyly, his head ducked. He couldn't look at her face, or he might forget what he was about to do.

Izzy turned to look at him, one hand on her hip, the basketball tucked in the crook of her elbow. "What do you want?" She demanded, her inky eyes snappin the same way his mother's did whenever she caught him doing something he wasn't allowed to do.

Simon blushed, his glasses beginning to slide down his nose. "I, uh..." He bit his lip. "I think you're pretty."

Izzy blinked, before narrowing her eyes at him. Then she muttered some names that Simon had only heard on TV, when he hid behind the couch and watched adult shows without his mother realizing he was right behind her.

Deciding that it was the perfect timing, Simon leaned closer, and pressed his lips against hers.

She tasted like apples.

Their kiss lasted for about three seconds, until Izzy tore her mouth away and slapped him across his face.

_Ouch._

"You-" More screaming of cuss words. "-Off! Now." She gave him a mean glare. "Before I hit you again."

Simon swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. Then he turned and ran inside the school, and hid in the boy's bathroom, crying in one of the stalls. She was too perfect to like him back.

Forget what Clary said. She never looked at him.

* * *

><p><strong>Isabelle<strong>

* * *

><p>Boys were evil.<p>

That's what Isabelle's mother had hammered into her head since before she could walk, telling her that boys were cruel, vile monsters. Her two older brothers, Max who was in college and Alec, who was eleven months older, weren't cruel, Isabelle thought, but Maryse told her they were. They just chose not to show it.

Isabelle decided she agreed with Mother. Her father was a monster. He was in jail. For attacking a minor. Sexual assault.

Maryse moved them away, deciding that New York would be a good start, far away from California, where they'd previously lived.

From what she could tell on the first day at the elementary school, boys were morons. Assholes, in fact.

Except for him.

Short, scrawny, his ears stuck out and his glasses were too big for his face, and his hair was always tangled. Far from the clean perfection the Lightwoods usually kept company with.

He was awkward looking. Innocent, kinda.

He'd called her pretty.

Isabelle rested her head on her pink frilly pillow, thinking about earlier that day.

_Nobody had called her pretty before._

Isabelle thought about how he'd kissed her.

The other boys, their kisses, though brief, had been sticky and hard. His was...Soft. Gentle.

Isabelle touched her lips in wonderment. She almost regretted slapping him. But boys were monsters. Why should she be the one feeling guilty?

Simon was a dangerous boy, she decided. She would have to watch out for him.

* * *

><p><strong>Simon<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Fifth Grade<em>

Izzy Lightwood's desk was right in front of his, her two inky braids falling onto his desk.

It was the fourth month of school. And so far, she hadn't awknowledged his existence. Like she hadn't for the past four years.

Simon watched, fascinated, as her head bent over as she began scribbling down the notes the teacher was writing on the chalkboard, her voice droning on and on, painfully boring.

Boring.

Boring.

_Boring._

Simon narrowed his eyes. Why was she ignoring him? _Always _ignoring him.

**_Get her attention, idiot, _**the devil on his left shoulder, who looked very much like Jace, muttered. _**Or she's gonna keep ignoring your ugly butt forever.**_

_Don't listen to him, _the good angel in the form of Clary, scolded gently. _You should wait for her to make the next move. Girls hate having their decisions made for them._

**_What do you know about girls? _**The devil-Jace-scoffed. _**Girls love it when guys get all possessive and crap.**_

_Excuse me? I AM a girl._

**_Could've fooled me. _**

_You little-_

Simon closed his eyes. God. He was barely ten, for crying out loud! Way too young to be going crazy.

**_You're never to young to go crazy, _**devil-Jace reassured him. _**Just take a good look at Little-Miss-Perfect.**_

Simon looked over at the angel-Clary, who's face was turning a deep red hue.

_I. Am. Not. CRAZY! _

Simon cleared his throat. _Yeah, it must be all the video games. _

He looked back at Izzy who was now twirling a thick strand of her silky-looking hair.

_Her hair._

Simon felt a grin work its way across his face. _What a great way to get her attention..._

He leaned over his desk, and reached a hand out. Then, he grabbed a fistfull of her waist-long hair, and gave it the hardest tug his ten-year-old muscles could stand.

_"OW!" _Izzy gave a loud, piercing shriek, and jumped out of her chair. "Omigod, omigod, omigod!" She clapped her hands on her head, and spun around, her beautiful black eyes snapping angrily, like crazed black beetles. "You _jerk!" _

_Uh-oh._

_**Well, would you look at that! **_Devil-Jace snickered. _**You two will be married and sharing a bucket of popcorn by the end of school.**_

_You screwed up, idiot. _Angel-Clary tsked.

Simon felt himself turn red as everybody in their class turned to look at them. "I-I didn't mean to," he stuttered. He was always a terrible liar.

"Didn't mean to?" Izzy gave a short, mean laugh. "The hell you didn't! You grabbed my hair. You _hurt _me."

"Ms. Lightwood, language, please."

_You hurt me._

Simon felt his stomach turn over and the taste of copper was heavy on his tongue, like whenever he felt like he was going to be sick.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"You'd better be!" Izzy glared at him. "You're going to be sorry for a long time, Four-Eyes."

The class laughed at her comment, and Simon felt his face flush red, and sank lower into his seat. Great. Instead of ignoring him, she hated him.

_Dang it._

...

...

...

...

Simon swallowed, and stared at Izzy from across the classroom, as she ate lunch with her friends.

"Should I go talk to her?" He asked Clary, who was shooting mean glares at Jace between bites of her turkey sandwhich. "Clary." He tapped her shoulder. She looked away from Jace, and out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw the blonde boy give him a mean look.

Clary shook her head. "Heck no." She took a sip from her Hawaiian Punch. "She hates you."

Simon felt sadness wash over him. "She does not," he protested half-heartedly.

"Yeah, she does." Clary looked back over at Jace, who was staring at her, before blushing and whipping her head back to Simon. "She wrote "Isabelle Lightwood hates Simon Lewis" on the wall in one of the bathroom stalls."

"Oh." Simon felt his shoulders slump. "Then how do I make her like me?"

"Isabelle?" Clary made a weird face, and it took Simon a moment to figure out she was trying to raise _one _eyebrow. She ended up looking like a slightly demented squirrel. "People like her," she settled with both eyebrows. "You can't make 'em like you. She hates you, then she hates you. Nothing can change her mind. My advice? Get over her."

"What about Jace?"

Clary turned an angry red. "Jace is lame," she said, picking crust off her sandwhich. "Calling me "cute" doesn't make him unlame."

Simon raised one eyebrow, knowing how it ticked her off. "O-kay." He stood up, brushing sandwhich crumbs off his pants. "I'm going to go talk to Izzy."

"Good luck with that." Clary plugged her fingers in her ears as she stuck her tongue out at Jace, her eyes crossed. Jace repeated the gesture, ignoring his friends as he focused on Clary.

Simon sighed; He'd been hoping she'd join him, in case Izzy tried to stick him with her plastic fork she was using to eat her spaghetti.

Shoving his hands into his jean-pockets, Simon shuffled across the classroom, stepping over the kids that were laying on the floor on their stomachs as they ate.

"Hey, Iz-Isabelle." Simon corrected himself before he made the mistake of calling her by her nickname; He doubted she'd appreciate it. Especially if she hated him.

Izzy froze. So did the girls that sat in a circle around her.

Slowly, she set down her fork. "What do you want, Lewis?" Her voice was cool. "To pull my hair again?"

Simon ducked his head. "N-no." He bit his lip. "I, ah, wanted to ask if I could sit over here with you."

Her mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me?"

The girls tittered.

"Why don't you go sit with your nerd friend, like you were before?" Izzy demanded, grabbing a ripe, shiny red apple from her lunch bag. She took a large bite, watching him through narrowed eyes.

For a minute, with her dark hair framing her face, and her ivory skin against the sharp red of the apple, she nearly looked like Snow White. _The fairest of them all._

Simon frowned. "Don't call Clary that. She's just a friend."

"Aww..." the girls began to giggle. "Simon loves Clary!"

Izzy's eyes flashed with something...anger? Or annoyance? "Shut up," she snarled, looking furiously at the girls. Then she turned back to look at Simon. "You can't sit here," she stated.

"Why not?" Simon felt the tips of his ears turn pink. "There's nobody else sitting there."

"Because." Izzy crossed her arms. "I _hate _you."

Simon felt his palms sweat. "Oh..." He slowly began to back away. "A-alright."

He walked back over to Clary. "Why does Izzy hate me?"

"Because you pulled her hair."

"Before that."

Clary screwed up her face, thinking. "Uh...Didn't you try to kiss her?"

"That's it!" Simon jumped back up. "I'll just kiss her again, and she'll forgive me."

Clary stared at him for a second, before slapping her forehead. "You're an idiot," she told him.

Simon ignored her. "She'll like me again..."

"She never liked you."

"Then she'll let me kiss her again and again..."

"After inflicting many life-threatening injuries upon you."

"And we'll be married and sharing a bucket of popcorn by the time school's over!"

"Not if she kills you, first."

Simon walked confidently back over to Isabelle, ignoring Clary's warnings. She would like him if he kissed her, again. He was positive.

"Isabelle." She looked up at him, looking surprised. "What are you doing back over he-" Simon bent over, gently brushing his lips over hers, before adding more pressure.

_Her lips were soft. They tasted like apples. _

_Just like they did five years ago._

Simon felt himself being knocked over, and was suddenly looking up at a murderous Izzy.

"What the heck was that?" She demanded, her eyes snapping angrily. "Sexual assualt? Were you trying to prove something? Huh?" Her foot connected with his leg, and Simon cried out. "Does it make you feel like a man, doing that? Hurting me? First my hair, now my body? You disgust me."

She dumped her milk on him.

Simon welcomed it. Hopefully, with the milk staining his hair, clothes, and face, nobody would notice him crying.

Except Izzy.

She saw it all.

* * *

><p><strong>Isabelle<strong>

* * *

><p>Mother always told her that if a boy touched her, it meant that he wanted to fuck her.<p>

It meant he wanted to take advantage of her, hurt her.

Mother told her that no boy would ever do it to her, because she was an undesirable brat.

And she believed her.

Simon kissed her.

He'd done it without warning, and it was meant to be claiming, in a way, but his kiss remained gently. Soft.

For a minute, even though they were both ten, she felt _desired. _Not in the rough, cruel way her father had made her feel, the way that mad her feel hate for herself and disgust towards her willpower, for allowing him to do those horrible things to her.

Simon made her feel _good._

And that terrified her.

Izzy looked down at him, milk all over him, and felt a cruel satisfaction when she was his dark eyes, behind those adorable glasses, swimming with tears.

_It was about time she had power over another male._

_One she knew would be able to hurt her if he wanted to._

Izzy decided that she would get over Simon Lewis, even if it meant never speaking to him again.

* * *

><p><strong>Simon<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Tenth Grade<em>

Izzy was standing with her boyfriend, his arm wrapped around her in a crude way that made Simon want to run over there and rip him away from her.

But she would probably just get pissed at him for doing so.

"Look at him," Clary muttered, glaring at Jace as he said something to one of his friends, before looking at Clary over his shoulder and smirking at her. "The douche. Just because he called me "beautiful"," she snorted. "Does not make him hot."

Simon rolled his eyes. Clary and Jace had been borderline of flirting/fighting for_ever. _They seemed to enjoy the game, though, so he went along with it.

"You should be flattered." He pulled his Trig book from out of his locker. "He calls every other girl "hot" or "sexy". Not beautiful."

Clary turned red, before slapping him lightly on the arm. "Shut up."

"Hey, Clary. Hey, Simon."

Clary and Simon turned around to see the Hallmark couple, Maia and Jordan, smiling brightly at them

"Hey, Maia. Jordan." Clary smiled at them and gave a little wave. Simon gave a small smile, pulling an earphone out of his ear and jacking up his iPod; Listening to the girls' conversation while listening to his music.

"So." Maia pulled her hand out of Jordan's to give Clary a quick hug, before sliding it back into Jordan's much larger one. "We're throwing this party at Jordan's tonight..." She gave Simon a little wink. "And Isabelle's going to be there."

Simon frowned, looking down at his shoes. Ever since he'd hooked Maia and Jordan up, with Maia being his best friend and Jordan being Clary's, Maia had been dying to return the favor. She refused to believe that Isabelle hated him. She insisted that Isabe;;e just had a bad past with men, and that she'd "seen how Isabelle looked at him when he wasn't watching".

"Oh, that's cool." Clary glanced over at Simon. "Is Jace going to be there?"

Jordan smirked at her.

"Just so, you know, I know to avoid him." Clary flipped her hair so that it hung in a protective curtain around her face; She'd been wearing it down, out of her braids ever since the day Jace told her she looked beautiful with it down.

"Right." Jordan rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Maia and I wanted to invite you guys over-"

"Why?" Clary wrinkled her nose. "Isn't everyone else in this school going, too?"

"Yeah." Maia shrugged. "But Jordan gets so mopey when you aren't there, Clary. And this may be your lucky night with Ms. Lightwood." She winked at Simon.

"I doubt it." Simon looked over at Izzy, who was staring at him, frown on her lovely face. "I _really _doubt that."

Clary looked ready to agree with him and refuse, but she turned to look at Jace, who was still watching her. "Fine, we'll come."

Simon sighed. "Alright."

Jordan grinned crookedly at them. "That's good. Good." He scratched the back of his neck. "And Simon, dude. Don't pick a fight with Izzy's boyfriend. He's a real asshole."

"I planned on avoiding both of them tonight, actually." Simon knew well enough that Izzy hated him. She'd made that perfectly clear for as long as he'd known her. That probably wasn't changing anytime soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Isabelle<strong>

* * *

><p>She couldn't help but tune out Sebastian's words as she stared at Simon and the Fray chick from across the hallway, feeling envious at how easily Clary's arm was wrapped around his waist, and he fiddled with a strand of her curly hair as they chatted with Maia and Jordan. The couple that was so in tune with eachother, that Isabelle felt like killing them.<p>

Sebastian didn't love her, she knew that all too well.

She wanted to be loved, though, so she liked to tell herself that one day, he'd be so madly in love with her that couples like Maia and Jordan would look like enemies, and she'd be happy.

_Happy._

What a stupid feeling.

Sebastian's hand ran down her back, and over her ass, which he gave a squeeze a little _too _rough for her taste.

"Babe," he murmured, shooting her a half-grin. "That party Jordan's throwing? You wanna go?"

Isabelle wrinkled her nose. A house full a drunk boys, horny boys, and sleazy girls...

"No, not really." She slid her hand up and down his arm. "Why don't we just stay at your place? Maybe just watch a movie?" She bit her lip, hoping he'd agree and stay and watch a movie with her, letting her pick the movie, instead of watching the same old boring stuff he always chose.

Sebastian looked annoyed. "With you? C'mon, babe. You love parties."

_I did. Until you started getting handsy with me whenever you got drunk. _

"I just don't feel like going out tonight."

Sebastian's friends sniggered, knowing that he wasn't used to girls, especially his own girlfriend, turning him down.

He scowled, and tugged Isabelle away from his ring of friends, and to the two water fountains that nobody ever used, since last year when some sophomore pissed down the drain on one of them for a dare.

"Isabelle, babe, I want you to come with me to the party. Please."

She frowned. "Seb, come on..."

"If you don't, I'll make a little appointment with Lewis." Sebastian grinned. "Maybe rearrange his face so he doesn't look too much like a rat."

Isabelle stilled. Sebastian didn't know about her crush on Simon. Right?

"You wouldn't do that to him," she said, false confidence in her voice. "I don't even like Simon."

Sebastian shrugged, smiling at her. "Maybe you don't," he said. "Either way, you know I'd do it."

Isabelle pursed her lips, exhaling a heavy, exasperated breath. "Okay, I'll go to the fuckin' pary. Happy?"

He gave her a false smile. "Immensely. I'll pick you up at nine."

* * *

><p><strong>Simon<strong>

* * *

><p>Parties were so dull.<p>

Maia and Jordan threw decent parties, but they were usually spoiled when someone pulled out Jordan's CD collection of Pink Floyd and Billy Idol, and replaced them with crappy rap that was like a dying sheep to the ears, or when a random stranger staggered up to you, shit-faced, and hurled on your shoes.

Simon politely stepped away from Eric Tomas, grimacing at the vomit on his sneakers.

"This party sucks balls, doesn't it?" Clary yelled at him over the music, her face twisted distastefully.

Simon pointed at his shoes, not saying anything.

Clary shot him a sympathetic look. "You seen Jace anywhere?"

He shook his head.

Clary looked disappointed. "Damn. He told me he'd see me here..."

Simon raised an eyebrow.

She looked defensive. "We have P.E. together. Plus, he knew that I'd been invited and wanted to know if I was going..."

Simon grinned. "Have fun." He turned and walked away, casting a curious look at the too-foamy beer in his hand. He'd never drank before, never having the desire to. Plus, he hung out with Clary, who thought beer was disgusting, and usually snuck wine every now and then, so he'd never felt pressured to, either.

He walked up Jordan's spiral staircase, heading to the hall bathroom-one he knew wasn't occupied with a sick drunk or couple going at it like bunnies-and hopefully get this crap off his shoes, which were beginning to give off the most disgusting odor.

Simon slid into the empty bathroom, and sat on the counter, sticking his feet into one of the sinks. Turning the faucet on, Simon rested his head against the mirror, thinking about Izzy.

He'd sworn her off after that awful experience in fifth grade, knowing she'd probably never like him back.

But that still hadn't stopped him from loving her, watching her, even when she tossed cruel insults at him in the hallways, or spread crude, humiliating rumors that people still made fun of him with.

Simon shook his head. He couldn't wait till he graduated. Till he left. Maybe then, his infatuation with Isabelle Lightwood would fade away.

Somehow, he doubted it.

Simon was turning off the water, when he heard something off.

It wasn't the loud rap, pounding against the closed bathroom door so that it shook. It wasn't the yelling jeers or laughter of the jocks and random girls from downstairs or some of the bedrooms.

It sounded...Kind of like a muffled scream.

Simon frowned. The hell? He shook his head. Jordan refused to let guys that were like _that _into his house or parties. Maybe it was just part of the soundtrack.

The song ended, and Simon shrugged, pulling his shoes out of the sink and hopping off the counter.

He heard it again. Sharper. Clearer.

Simon froze. If it wasn't part of the song-which was over-then...

"Shit." He tore open the door, and ran out of the bathroom, straining to hear the muffled screaming again.

He followed the noise when he heard it again, and if he was correct, it was coming from Jordan's parents's bedroom.

Simon scowled; If the girl was getting hurt, whoever she was, he was going to kill the bastard, whether he was just a string-beany geek or not.

He pressed his ear to the door.

It was silent.

And then he heard the sound of a chair(?) maybe, getting knocked over, and a guy's voice swear loudly, slightly slurred.

Simon straightened his back, and took a deep breath.

He opened the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Isabelle<strong>

* * *

><p>Isabelle scowled down at her seven-inch-high red heels. Sebastian's arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her to him in a way that made her feel slightly claustrophobic.<p>

He was drunk.

Not even in the loud-laughing-at-everything-drunk. More of the can't-keep-hands-to-myself-drunk.

Sebastian's hand wandered from her hip, and trailed up to her breasts, giving them a rough squeeze. Isabelle hissed at the sharp pain his hands brought to her. "Sebastian, let go of me." She tried to lift his hands away from her breasts, and tried to slide out of his grip in general.

"Don't be like that, 'Belle." Sebastian twisted his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, practically slobbering all over her skin.

"Let go." Isabelle tried to twist out of his grip, but only succeeded in sloshing her beer over her mini black dress. "Dammit! Sebastian, I swear to God, if you _don't let go of me-"_

Sebastian grabbed her by her arm. "You need to shut the hell up, you slut." He began to pull her through the mass of dancing and grinding bodies, and began to lead her up the spiraling staircases, his nails digging into her skin as he struggled to remain upright.

Isabelle felt fear begin to rise; Her mother had been right. Boys were monsters. Sick, twisted, monsters..

She found herself shoved into a bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Alright, Isabelle. It's time someone taught you how to treat your boyfriend right..." She heard the sound of a zipper being unzipped, and a hand grab her hair, shoving a scrap of cloth in her mouth.

Isabelle yanked out of his grip, screaming against the gag as she ran around the room, Sebastian swear and grabbing at her, until he caught her as she tripped over a chair, and flung her roughly onto the bed.

His body was suddenly on hers, unwelcome and intrusive.

Memories of another body, larger and stronger, pinning her four-year-old body to the bed and taking her, slapping her and muttering disgusting things that made her want to vomit.

_Why me? _She wandered, screaming against the gag as Sebastian slid his pants off his legs. _Why is it always me?_

She heard the door open.

"What the _hell?"_

_Simon?_

Sebastian looked at Simon, momentarily distracted. Taking advantage of that, Isabelle kicked her legs from beneath him, causing for him to fall off the bed, and she scrambled up, and ran to Simon.

She didn't bother remembering that her goal had been to forget Simon, to repeatedly push him away, and threw her arms around him, pressing her face to his chest.

"Don't touch my girl," she heard Sebastian protest.

Isabelle thought for a second that Simon might hand her over to him, but he just stroked her hair. "No way in hell," he heard Simon growl, which she thought was incredibly sexy. _Hell, everything about him is sexy. His sexy hair, his sexy glasses, his sexy smile-_

"C'mon, Izzy." _Izzy. _She'd never been called that before, and she felt a little thrill shoot through her when he said it. She felt Simon take her hand, lightly, not forcefully, as if he was giving her a choice whether or not she wanted to hold his hand or not. It was cute.

She nodded, and shut the door on Sebastian's face. She'd let someone else deal with him.

Simon slowly led her downstairs, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, the other still holding her hand. She rested her head on his shoulder, soaking in his smell; Salt, peppermint and rain. She didn't know if rain had a smell, but if it did, that's what Simon smelled like.

"Do you want to go outside?" Simon asked, looking down at her. "Get some fresh air?"

Isabelle nodded shyly, unused to being asked what she wanted, genuinely, and was unsure how to react towards it. "Yes, please," she whispered, in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

Simon smiled sweetly at her, and led her easily through the crowd, almost as if he were dancing.

As they left, Isabelle saw his redheaded friend in the arms of Jace Wayland, the two of them dancing slowly to a slow dance that was heard only to them, instead of the R&B that was pulsing through the air of the Kyle's house. She also saw Jordan holding Maia in his lap on one of the couches, kissing her softly on the neck and whispering in her ear..

For once, she didn't feel envious.

She knew it was because Simon's hand was on her, and she wasn't pushing him away. She knew it was because he was looking at her in a way nobody else had, ever before.

He pushed open the door, and pulled her outside, leading her to the yard.

He pulled off his denim jacket, spreading it out on the grass-wet from rain the afternoon-and indicated for her to sit on it.

Isabelle blushed-she couldn't remember the last time she'd done that-and sat obediently on his jacket. Simon breathed a sigh of relief, and sat down from across from her.

"Hey."

Isabelle grinned at him. Smiling a real smile. Something she hadn't done in a while. "Hey."

Simon reached his hand out, and she took it, amazed at how their hands just seemed to...fit, together.

"I'm sorry."

Simon looked up at her, from where he'd been staring at their clasped hands. "For what?"

"For...you know. Being a bitch to you, forever."

He shrugged. "I'm not gonna say it didn't hurt, you treating me like shit for no reason. But I forgave you every time." He gave her hand a slight squeeze. "You don't need to apologize."

Isabelle shook her head. "I wanted to. But, Simon, you have to understand..." She frowned, unsure of how she could explain. "My mother raised me to hate men."

Simon raised an eyebrow, confused.

"My dad..." Isabelle bit her lip. "He hit my mom. A lot. And he wasn't exactly good at keeping his hands to himself, either. If you get my drift."

Simon looked crushed. "Izzy-I'm so sorry. If I'd known...I wouldn't have kissed you-"

Isabelle giggled, despite the fact she felt like crying whenever she talked about her imprisoned father. "Trust me, Simon." She stroked the hand she held, marveling at the silkiness. "Your kisses were the best I'd ever experienced."

He smiled as if he'd just won the lottery. "Really?"

Isabelle nodded, still giggling.

"But, seriously." Simon leaned forward, looking at her, earnestly. "No one deserves to have gone through what you went through. You're strong, gorgeous, and have a slap that hurts like hell." Isabelle smiled at that. "And if you think any less of yourself, I'll have Clary and Maia kick your ass."

Isabelle nodded. "Mmkay."

Simon smiled at her, flashing his dimples. "So...you and Sebastian are done, right?"

She nodded, fiddling with their intertwined fingers. "So you're single, now?"

Isabelle knew it was cruel, but she was enjoying his discomfort. It was refreshing and adorable.

"So..." Simon scratched his head. "Will you go out with me?"

Isabelle just stared at him.

"Uh...please?" Simon cocked his head, waiting for an answer.

"Sure. I'd love to go on a date with you."

Simon grinned. "Awesome."

Isabelle felt the need to warn him. "But, Simon..." His expression immediately fell, but she leaned over and quickly gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, causing him to look at her in wonder.

"I might be a little...slow during the kissing and touching..." She winced.

Simon nodded. "We'll go slow. Your pace, Izzy."

She stared at him in amazement. The first boy to let her set the pace in their relationship. He didn't even look disgusted when she'd mentioned what he father had done.

"Thank you."

Simon nodded. "Izzy?"

She grinned. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of that name. "Yeah?"

"If I kiss you...You won't hit me, right? 'Cuz we're dating, and everything?"

Isabelle nodded. "I'll hit you if you _don't _kiss me," she threatened playfully.

Simon pressed his lips to hers, moving slowly. He hadn't been lying; He let her lead, and didn't resist when she hesitantly climbed onto his lap and threaded her fingers through his hair.

He pulled away. "Slow, Iz," he murmured as she began nibbling on his lower lip, pulling a little at his hair. "We're going slow."

She nodded, and kissed him again.

* * *

><p><strong>Simon<strong>

* * *

><p>It was nearly unbelievable.<p>

His Izzy was in his arms, and she was kissing him.

And she still tasted like apples.

* * *

><p><strong>Whew! That took me nearly a month to write. <strong>

**And now my fingers are numb. :(**

**Sorry if there were any mistakes. It's early in the morning (One or two) and I have a headache. And all my stories are unbeta'd. **

**Review...**


End file.
